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Vike: Blood and Instinct
Posted: 14 Nov 2006 05:25 PM |
Waking up, he almost cracked his head on the ceiling. The bunk beds at the Four Winds Inn were unforgiving, unrelenting to taller people, and the Inn would leave it's mark on the skulls of those who made such a foolish error.
"Not this time," said Tristian Vike as he laid flat, glaring at the ceiling. "I'll just slide off the top bunk, and get on with my day without your taint.
Tristian did just that, sliding off of the bunk, both feet planting themselves onto a cushion that was ill-fated to be a landing pad. The human regarded the events that have transpired in the past few days, beginning with the almost-accusation from Rosen Vimes regarding alchemy, to Tristian now rising to the top of a demon's "torture" list. Apparently, skewering the demon's 'daughter' with close to thrity arrows doesn't get you close in fiendish society.
Tristian shook his head, recalling that horrible meeting. "Bitch deserved it. I hope she gets what's coming to her." The horror that was Seil disturbed a rather peaceful meeting between five people, one of them being Vike. Hans Wilhelm, Alis Rapidshill, Shard Aerinmane, and Eibellenith Semnkliyn (and Bel's adorable beholder.)
That... fiend walked in, blood spewing from every pore, giggling and trying to talk to the 'druid', whom Tristian identified as Alis, due to her reaction. The reaction of everyone else, which ranged from drawing weapons to backing away from the little girl, led Tristian to draw his bow, and fire off a warning shot to hopefully let Seil know she was not in the presence of friendly folk. That didn't work, so he blasted a warning shot right into her chest.
What shocked him, as well as everyone else around the table, is when she twisted the arrow and asked for more. Tristian, naturally happy to oblige, let off another.
And another.
And another.
And another.
Somehow, this thing was not only still alive, but screaming in ecstasy, asking for more. Even Hans Wilhelm attempted to slay the fiend, to no avail. She kept asking for more, which Tristain began to inquire on the origin of this 'thing'.
Poor Eibellinith. She almost shook hands with a demon. However, due to the intervention of the rest of the people seated at the table, they interposed that deal from being made.
After escorting Eibellinith to the Four Winds Inn with Hans and Fennigan, he was dismayed to hear that he was now public enemy number one with whomever Seil served.
Wonderful. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Re: All in a day's work. (to be updated later, feel free to add anything relevant to this)
Posted: 17 Nov 2006 05:22 PM |
Tristian sat on the bed in the Four Winds, throwing his hand in the air, and catching it. His hand risen and fell as such, making the slightest of squishing sounds as it was recieved by Tristian.
It was a nice find, after all. Going into the Tomb of Kings and walking out with a lich's hand certainly meant something these days. It sat there, alongside some wand, and no one else wanted to claim either of the items as their own. In the almost casual fashion, he walked up, saw what it was, and though he didn't have a specific use for it, Tristian knew it would have a purpose someday. Alis, Cerno, Serai, and Fennigan took an odd eye to his carrying it with him, but that didn't matter. He was invited to join the tour, and he was hell-bent on coming back with something.
Sure, someone in that place would be a bit angry it's missing. It probably had more use to them than it does to Tristian. He wouldn't even mind giving it back, should someone (or something) come up from the ground and ask for it. At least he would be able to have a moral discussion with them, rather than just invading their place, killing what they saw, and taking everything as if it was theirs. Tristian shook his head. He didn't feel those things were 'evil' as everyone made them out to be.
Throwing the lich hand up with a bit of force, it hit the ceiling of the room. Tristian expected the hand to come right down, but was shocked to see that it stuck. It hung there, on the top of the room, for a second.
It still has some life, then, Tristian thought to himself, much more interesting than I had hoped.
He had thought of a few things to use it for. The most simple was to hang it from his neck, as proof of his... ability to survive insurmountable odds. But that would scare away a lot of people, and it would eventually stink worse than it reeked now. The better idea, was to put it up for auction in Port Royale. That's what they have these things for, after all. However, he wondered if it would actually work, attempting to figure out who exactly would use a lich hand. Surely those crazy necromancers and wizards running about. They would have a field day. And Tristian would make a lot of money on such an object.
An maniacal grin erupted from Tristian's mouth. The concept of a lich bidding on his own had made him laugh himself to sleep. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Re: All in a day's work. (to be updated later, feel free to add anything relevant to this)
Posted: 18 Nov 2006 05:16 PM |
Morning. The birds chirping outside of the cavern. The sound of running water.
Nature. Life.
He moved gracefully to his pack, where his clothes lay, crumpled in a neat pile that resembled a model of a maginificent mountain, curling and folding with impassable paths up to the peak. However, a hand reaching from the sky shattered the mountain, which soon unfurled into a robe. The first thing Tristian put on.
The sound of a light snoring behind him, he turns around. Erin's pale body, lying underneath a blanket, exposing the tips of her shoulders, her hair, and her face. A pretty thing, Tristian mused, glancing at the firelight reflecting off of her cheeks. Such a wonderful creature to be in the company of.
Tristian walked over to the edge of the ground, where the pool of water lay, and splashed his face, cleansing it with the purest water his face had ever felt. It was cool, and snapped him awake from his rather melacholy state. He packed his things, quietly to avoid waking the lady sleeping nearby.
Odd, Tristian thought, I haven't felt like this since I was with...
His brain tensed. Eyes narrowed, smile fading like a sunrise, except on a quicker scale. Years. It has been years since his wife died. When she was sentenced to death, tried for a crime which Tristian knew was his own, and punished the wrong person. He knew who was to blame. "The Just Hand." Tristian's face became a scowl, and the smile turned into a sneer.
The rage took control of him, consumed his pleasant thoughts, replaced them with fury, anger, and hatred. Tristian tightened his wrappings around his hands, making sure they were tight enough and unable to unravel during his travels. Such things were important, and the difference between life and death at time. Tristian was hell-bent on preventing that from happening yet.
At that moment, the rage filled in him, he grabbed his weapons, and stalked off into the night, unknowing if Erin had awoken from the suddenly loud footsteps. He would find vengance, or it would find him. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Re: All in a day's work. (to be updated later, feel free to add anything relevant to this)
Posted: 21 Nov 2006 10:54 PM |
The Royal Botanical Gardens. Tristian hated this place. However, this was the closest place that would provide him a sense of quiet, and out of the eyes of others. Quill in one hand, an open, blank book of white before him on the table. Pure white, until marked with black for life. Such was the order of things. It happened to him, and he started seeing it in another, and while he was not too proud of his actions, Tristian had the premonition that it would happen.
A sigh. Work was to be done. He sipped his glass of wine, a sweet red wine that took ages to grow, and was carted off rather elegantly, as Tristian found a way to hide it without the bumbling waitress suspecting anything.
Tristian, as mellow as he could ever be, began writing.
If this book is found, it will surely lead to my arrest, conviction, and death. In that event, I would request a cremation after a beheading. Provided that the fools of Midoran faith are able to have anything resembling courtesy, or kindness, of course.
To business. My name is Tristian Vike. Almost three years ago, I was solely responsible for the deaths of five people in the docks district of Midor. I had killed them without remorse and fully aware of my actions at the time.
Midoran and the Red-cloaked minions, after a search that involved all sorts of measures that most would consider intolerable, and un-humane, my wife, Delitia Vike, was convicted of the murder, and due to her following of Vastaldoriun, they believed they held the criminal within their grasp. However, the real murderer watched as his wife was tried, convicted, and executed, all before his very eyes. My eyes. Since then, I have fled Midor, and am heistant to go back, due to my insaitable hatred for the citizens, their faith, and their beliefs.
I am tormented with the fact that I live, continuing to suffer without my wife. But I am feeling that the curse is either ending, or beginning a second phase. I have found another, and while there is literally nothing stopping me from being hers, the thought that my deceased wife is still suffering is a plague on my mind. I will not give myself over fully until I feel I have reached vengance on the city of Midor, it's denizens, and the followers of the Midoran faith. Until I die, I curse them as my enemies.
However, I will be willing to work with those that follow their insipid faith, if only to-
The sound of moment approaching, the shuffling of bushes. Tristian quickly closed the tome, hoping to work on it when he felt he could without the annoyance of being spied upon. Wind or not, he would not drop his guard here, not while there was work to be done.
<B>((I'm sure you guys know this, but this is not to be used by PC's except for DM's, or unless the character himself has told you. Enjoy!)) |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Re: All in a day's work. (to be updated later, feel free to add anything relevant to this)
Posted: 01 Dec 2006 01:29 PM |
"What a strange place to call home."
Tristian's words echoed throughout the tent, as he sat while one of Ender's wives tended to his broken arm. The bone had been dislocated out of place, being the victim of the blue dragon and all. Glancing at the arm where it was rendered asunder, he saw the bite marks of about thirty teeth. Merely the front of the jaw that Tristian had been unfortunate enough to get caught in. The festering, burning skin around the piercings was the result of the rather shocking ability the dragon posessed. It stung, and ached the hunter immensily, adding to his already growing frustration with how things seem to be conspiring against him. He kept thinking, about Erin, about his job with Salt, other things. People. Ideas. Dreams.
He kept thinking until he heard a popping sound, which immediately got his attention.
The scream echoed throughout the Kobai Desert that night. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Re: All in a day's work. (to be updated later, feel free to add anything relevant to this)
Posted: 09 Dec 2006 09:29 PM |
Tristian dragged the young elf, Josaphine, by a multitude of strands of hair, through Buckshire. She may have struggled, but Tristian kept his hand firmly held to her black, silky hair. Should she try to make an escape, she would have felt it. She had come back to her spot, where she spent it before caked in the crimson stains of whomever had fallen victim to hers and Ophelia's wrath. When she noticed Salt Sower and Tristian there, discussing what Tristian has seen previously, she made a few snide comments and bolted, attempting to flee questioning and interrogation. She failed, due to the help of Balthor Mountainhand's "enchancements."
"Oh my word... is that necessary, Tristian?" Salt didn't approve of his methods, but kept him composure. Bathor's comment was not concerned with the handling of the lady.
"See? Magic is handy."
After a bit of questioning, it became apparent that Josaphine was less than eager to talk about what happened the night the half-orc and her were seen there. In that very spot, with three new people. One of them knew the answer, and she seemed unwilling to divulge it. Balthor had an interesting idea to pry it from her.
"Tell us or Tristian disembowels ya." At that moment, Tristian heard the sliding of metal against a scabbard, and the swishing of the axe being made at-the-ready. It was almost instinctive, executing the dwarf's words without question or concern. Josaphine merely looked over at the blades that the male now held in his grip, mere inches from Josaphine's back. Her heart. She unwavered from her resolve, and let it be know to the three men in her perimeter.
"Let him. If he does then, you three will never know."
"Right, but if you don't tell us, we'll never know either," Balthor riposted. "But we'll feel better an' ye'll feel nothing."
The conversation continued. Salt, Balthor, and Tristian knew what they were dealing with, and how to respond to such responses by their captors. Once the name of 'Londo' breached the sound barrier, Josaphine cracked.
"He shot me. I wanted to say hi and he shot me. He was playing with a cup... I wanted to see what he was doing and he shot me."
"Where? Was anybody else dere? Where did it 'appen?"
Josaphine closed her eyes and shook her head. "A promise is a promise."
Salt moved forward, spoke with the determination of a thousand men ready to go to war. "Hold on... this is more than we need. With this, we can get the rest from Ophelia. Ophelia, oh, the diabolical half-breed..."
Josaphine cried out "NO!", and then added: "She was defending me." Balthor continued his interrogation.
"Did she fight Londo?"
"He wouldnt stop shooting at me." "She intercepted." Josaphine looked to the grass that she was sitting on, waiting for the questions to continue. They never stopped.
The conversation moved to another subject for a moment, one that was on Tristian's mind, eating at his skull, but he refused to ponder it now. He was at work, and had an interrogation to complete.
"You still haven't told us what happened when Londo fired upon you, and Ophelia attacked him."
Balthor replied to this first, then Salt: "I s'spect.. she kilt 'im. Or a'least maimed 'im."
"It's plain as day. He's a dead man, or worse."
"No she didn't" was the elf's reply. Balthor found this odd, and blatantly asked why. He didn't expect the next sentence from forming being put in the open for all to hear.
"Because I did."
Balthor did not move a muscle, did not flich, nor stop in his movements or thought.
"Ah. Very good. Tristian, go a'ead."
Tristian looked upon the elf that sat upon the ground before him. He felt sad, knowing that he was sending yet another woman to death. It fazed him, and he asked a simple question: "You are sure, then?" He raised his blades into the air, going to land a hit that would merely cleave her skull in two. As the axe was raised, the multitude of thoughts screened his mind.
This woman is innocent, right? I mean, she had killed Londo in self defense, right? Ophelia and Josaphine had merely defended themselves, right? It was the first time ever that Tristian ever considered that he may be executing the wrong person at fault here. However, before he could motion any more, whether to lower his blade or strike the elf with a furious rage, he heard Salt's words echo in the air.
"I don't think so, Tristian. I have heard of quite enough wickedness..." His hand moved around, made a few symbols while Salt also spoke a few words that wouldn't make sense to anyone but the most powerful of mages. Balthor had as well, but his target was different than what Salt was aiming for.
Tristian felt a chill pass up his back, and literally freeze him in his postion, paralyzed, but standing, as if he had become a new statue. Josaphine, who at that moment was up and attempting to run, also had become immobile. Balthor was the first to speak a common language after the mess was over. "Stand down, Tristian." A simple gesture with Salt's hand, and the spell was removed. The weapons felt heavy in his hands, and he merely let them fall to the ground. A simple, snide "Fine" erupted from his mouth, and the three men departed, leaving Josaphine to contemplate her next actions.
Tristian found himself on the ground called Elbereth's Tears later that night, wondering if he was ever doing the right thing since he left the city of Midor three years ago. He spent the entire night there, sleeping next to the cavern that wailed constantly, permanently. It was then that Tristian realized that there was something more than just seeking revenge on the people of Midor, the Righteous Swords, and even Midoran himself. There was simply living. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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The journal, continued.
Posted: 16 Dec 2006 04:45 AM |
Tristian sat in the Latonei forest, listening to the sounds of nature spring forth from the wood itself. The trees sat in absuolte harmony, the wind grazing the peak of the trees, causing the tree to slightly sway to and fro, forever rooted to the earth. The human smiled. He felt good, clear... rejuvinated.
He opened his book, produced the same quill he's been carrying around, and began writing again.
It has been a bit of time sine I breached these pages with the ink, but for the lack of a better term, I am compelled to do so now. While I doubt that anything I write will be worth anything to anyone else, I could compare these notes later when I have spent more time around the individuals I am discussing here.
The first gentleman on my list is Salt Sower, a gentle, yet seemingly paranoid man who makes his home out of a small hallow in Brandibuck Vale. He's honest, good-humored, and well mannered. Though he seems to frequently fear some all-impending doom, I feel that he has more power and sway than he knows what to do with. His intentions are nothing but helpful, and while I enjoy his mild-mannered approach to everything, I would prefer to be by his side in an actual battle one day. Maybe I will learn more about him as my dealings with him increase.
The next man to come to mind is Valeration Veziel, an elf mage of noticiable authority. Though him and I have had a few words that were less than pleasant to each other, we seem to (and hopefully have) passed that point, and moved on to other things instead of trying to out-do each other. I am hoping to collaborate with him on some of the recent events concerning Port Royale.
Possibly the most respected of the companions I've met thus far is Balthor Mountainhand, the dwarf with a seemingly business-like mind, yet unabashed temper. Every word he gave he has followed up on, and I don't doubt for a moment that his current dilemma will be overcome somehow, and he'll be walking the streets without fear of Abbodan Prison. Also, he seems frequently frustrated at the rumor of him having a wife, which leads me to...
Nero. This woman would be a great lady to hang around with, except that she is fueled by mere greed. This one flaw controls her, yet it would be incorrect that she does not deserve it. The hin is more than able to provide for herself, as she can navigate almost any lock or trap that I've seen with ease. Thus, I would love to have her at my side, but fear my coin would slowly fall and never be seen again.
One of the most troubling ladies to pass in my, well... life, is Josaphine Veshas. The woman is missing a few gears, but she has been able to fight a mean battle. Despite this, her antics are annoying, hateful, and somewhat misaligned. She seems to have an alternate personality, which dresses in a different color opposite to Josaphine's normal black drab, and frequently challenges my position. While I have been more than tempted to simply find an open grave and fill it with her body, I hesitate at the final moments, still unsure of her mindstate, and whether there is a cure for such things.
Tristian looked at the now nighttime sky; his eyes returned to the page, looked down to where his scrawl was imprinted on the parchment. It had become a lot darker, so he decided to continue this speculation at a later time. Rising from his planted position, he moved with a panther-like grace to a desolate spot, where he could rest for the night. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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One up
Posted: 22 Dec 2006 02:33 AM |
It had been plaguing his mind for a while. The desire to have an insult that not only did its job, but also impressed someone else. He found the right moment, early in the night, when he got a chance to say it loud and clear, and manged to catch the attention of Sylune and the Doctor with it.
A few moments after the elf showed up, the usual greetings started between him and Tristian. Val commenting on Tristian's hand, Tristian complaining about someone, and then silence. Tristian sprung it upon Val then.
"By the way, Val. I have some bad news. Really bad."
Valethrion looked up to the human's scarred face. "Hm? Well, out with it, then." A slight grin formed on Tristian's face as he spoke. The words came naturally to him, flowing out like he used to do when he was a child, running through the streets of Midor.
"I went and spoke with Candy... and no matter how much I tried to convince her, she will -NOT- let you borrow her clothing for a night. She said something about you stretching it in places that it wasn't meant to be stretched. Then she shooed me away."
Sylune stopped, and simply turned her head. The doctor raised his eyebrows, looking over at either Valethrion, or Tristian. Tristian wasn't sure, he was looking for the elf to realize the insult had been spewed like a green dragon breathing acid. The elf at first laughed, then shook his head, and put a hand on the hunter's shoulder.
"I'll admit," he says, allowing a light grin. "That was a good one."
Doctor Greg Ticon decided to add his own bit into that. "I could do a simple surgical operation to rectify that problem, good sir. You would not be the first eunich." The doctor then gave himself a light laugh while Sylune shivered, contemplating the actual procedure.
Valethrion looked over to the doctor, blinked, and simply rolled his eyes. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Frantic.
Posted: 31 Dec 2006 02:15 AM |
It was not the first time Tristian had lost consciousness in battle, nor would it be the last. He doubted his ability to survive on instinct alone, but somehow, he managed to get through most of the time. Sometimes, it would take another person or three to awaken him from his trance, snapping the dream of him in Midor once again, and bringing him back to the forefront of horror. Hell. The present.
He remembered ordering a shot at the Broken Mask. He remembered Lucifer McIath, drunk as he was, scaring off the locals in Port due to his extensive desire to 'cleanse' the rats out of the city. His cleansing method included electrfying the water and everything in it. It wasn't until Fennigan showed up that he was able to sober the arch-mage that the madness continued.
Syn's creepers had followed him. To Port, for his life. Someone decided to destroy a city in hopes of killing one man. Tristian had been there when they started showing up, in a mass quantity, and began their dark assault on the wizard. Fennigan, Shard, and Lucifer were able to hold them off, but Tristian, with his meager weapons and ill-knowledge of the creature, was useless. Useless, and bleeding after about twenty or more shots to the body by the things. They had beaten him, and he had barely survived.
His mind was reeling. Darkness and stone were alteratively fading in and out, the voice of Delitia ringing in his ears. Warning him not to continue his insipid crusade. Not to bother with even living, or trying to find a place. No, Delitia wanted him with her, in whatever state she was in, long gone three years past.
The mercrenary shook it off, and ran, ran as fast as he could. He knew there was a gathering at the Mask, where there was people he knew, and trusted. Upon reaching the door, still bleeding out of his mouth, he tackled the door, which opened rather easily, due to the hinges weakened from their rapid use.
Staggering in, he saw a few people he knew, but could not place their names. They lost focus in his eyes, becoming clots to a stain. Their voices were discussing some sort of relic, possibly the relic now in the hands of someone safe, but that was nil. Their conversation was halted when the bloodied man stumbled in and simply yelled:
Creepers! Outside! Attacking Port!
Most of them stood instantly. Some of them ran out to combat the terror caused by the god of Nothing. Tristian remembers someone bandaging him before he ran back out, but was not sure who.
And then he lost complete control, only to re-awaken outside the Four Winds Inn. What had happened in that time span is forever lost to him. And without any sense of knowing, he decided that he would rather not know, and let his crimes be dealt with when he had the chance.
Venturing into the woods, he found a seculded spot, and began writing a letter. He just hoped that his brother would still hear his pleas, and still find him when he could, lest he be lost forever... |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Riposte
Posted: 06 Jan 2007 05:46 PM |
Tristian sat at the Broken Mask, watching the slender figure return the glare, two minds trying to decieve each other into submitting, walking away. Tristian was hell bent on winning this one. He would not back down, nor would he lose this parley of words. His next sentence came forth as something more of an open-ended question, something he was trying to avoid all night. However, he needed to follow the block with a quick counter, lest the battle be lost.
"Why do you think I'm asking? For personal amusement?"
The lady sat and raised her slender, silky chin to him. She went on the offensive, and unleased what she felt would drive him off, or at least faulter.
"I think you are asking because you are lonely and you want the company. Perhaps you miss your wife." Her tone dropped. "Perhaps whores do not take well to you. Something about me appeals to you. Perhaps you equate your own sense of loss to my actions. I assure you, if this is the case, that you operate under a misunderstanding. In any case, I assure you that there is no amount of coy interest on your part which can arouse mine. What interests me is that which exists in its own right, not the shadows of men who once were."
Tristian grinned. She had lost her focus. A retort was not only necessary to the survival of the conversation, but mandatory, for the sake of having some sort of status in her eyes. He would not stand for anyone telling him what he knew, or at least they thought he knew.
A slight laugh came forth from his mouth. "Please. You're too kind. If I wanted the attention of a whore, I would have found one, and not been here, discussing this, yes? My past has nothing to do with what I am asking you. You are diverting from the subject." He wanted to continue, lay it all on the line, but there was a fear in his mind. He did not want his words to disintegrate, nor did he want a blade to the throat. At least, not yet.
The lady's eyebrows raised a miniscule amount, a row of teeth forming as she pulled her lip back. "Well then..."
This battle was finished. For now. He was sure they would go at this again, and he doubted he would ever get the opportunity to savor another victory like this. Not only was he hoping to learn something, but to be recognized as something more than a mere simpleton, someone who never strived for their own sake. Tristian, looking her in the eyes, never lost focus.
She leaned forward, and lowered her volume enough for the man enough to hear alone. Tristian waited for her next verbal tirade, but got something more pleasurable as a trophy: direction.
"Go to the top of the mountain and contemplate what you see. A word of advise: if you are not effected by the freedom spell on your trip up the mountain itself, you will surely die. If you can accomplish this, tell me what the sight means to you. I would relish your opinion. We shall speak further on religious matters then." She rose, dipped her head low. "Good luck."
Tristian sat there for a moment, grinning, a bottle of ale holding the fragments of what now resided in his stomach laying upon the table. He had not realized he was drinking it until the very end. Looking at the bottle, he wasn't sure if it was even his, or the young couple that was evicted from their seats for this meeting to take place. It didn't matter.
As he watched her leave, his thoughts went directly to his next task, the task that he had been assigned. The top of the mountain. A frown ursurped his face, and he sighed. There was no way he could do that on his own. Not now, at least. A couple of options came to him, a few were discarded immediately. Going on his own would lead to nothing but a small plot of earth six feet deep, and that was if he was lucky. Going with a small group was too dangerous, should be singled out, or his intentions known. No, something else would have to suffice. But that would require more planning.
Stepping out of the Broken Mask that night, his mind wandered to concieve such a plan... |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Pain moves.
Posted: 09 Jan 2007 06:52 PM |
Tristian ran about Sylvan wood, Malice in tow, along with a summoned dire wolf. They had dealt with the nyth's attempt of annhilating each of them by teaming up, and swinging/lunging/biting at it until it connected, leading to death. They had taken down a few before Tristian noticed a flash of light.
His mind went blank. Something urged him forward.
Disregarding his companions, he strived forward, axe and hammer in hand, searching for something. Something that called to him here. Was it even calling to him? Or was it a deception?
Tristian found out a second later, when the same flash of light snapped him into existence, right before another nyth. The hunter raised his weapons and was about to drop them in the same motion that has dropped other forms of life before, but the vanishing of the nyth halted his progress.
He lowered his arms. The nyth just a second later, mystical energies surrounding it. Tristian knew what it was doing, and readied himself to take what was coming to him. It would hurt, but he would shrug it off, and begin swiping at it, much as he did previous to this point.
However, something was wrong. The aura surrounding it, the presence it created, seemed... bigger. More magnificent. More deadly.
When the first few arrows of evocation crashed into his body, he was still standing. Though, he expected the missiles to stop sometime.
They didn't. They continued, impacting one after another into his chest, stomach, head, arms, legs, feet. The force of them lifted him off the ground, making the ranger know what floating without water felt like.
It hurt.
When they finally did stop, he collapsed onto the ground, face flat into the earth, and refused to move afterward. Very little he could think about at that moment.
Someone... will notice I've been gone... Salt... Erin... Balthor... Sylune... someone will notice my absense, and look... look for me...
Tristian's breath halted at that moment. Lifeless eyes peering out through his helm, staring into the infinity of darkness that overcame him. He became a corpse, something for some other adventurer to find should they brave these woods, and combat the Nyth's and their fury. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Life and demand.
Posted: 15 Jan 2007 05:52 PM |
Tristian and Rosen dashed out of the Buckshire Woods as quickly as they entered.
They had come across an Atalan war party, though their purpose was not to engage them. Tristian simply asked if Rosen could lead him somewhere, and it had all fallen down from there.
Rosen was busy bandaging the both of them, cursing out the Atalan for being there, when a few began to leave the woods. Rosen and Tristian cut them down quickly, efficiently, and without second thought. It was a matter of survival, and even though they felt secure outside the perimeter of the woods, they were both going to learn a valuable lesson.
Tristian had brought forth Malice, the bear who'se combat prowless had taken down many a foe, more than the master would be able to at times. Tristian stood beside Rosen, waiting for the next wave to overthrow their position.
It came. It came with only one person. A mere archer wandered out, looked at his targets, chose Trisitan, and left forth a volley of arrows. One melted into his shoulder, only to form out the opposite end, dripping life from the hunter. Another hit his knee, with the same effect.
Tristian turned, knowing full well that he needed to find cover, and then return fire when there was a chance. Rosen would stride in and force the bowman to beconcerned with his own life, rather than worry about taking out a mere hunter. But he had given a free shot to the archer. In fact, he gave three. The sounds of thunk, thunk, thunk were too close for comfort. In fact, with the arrows now protruding out of his chest and stomach, he didn't feel any sort of comfort at all.
He collapsed to the ground, while Malice dashed off, fearful for his own life. He left Rosen alone to fight his battle, as the color his eyes perceived faded into shades of gray, then to black.
Rosen swiftly and meticulously repaid the archer for his damage, then returned to kneel by the body of the fallen man. However, her actions were interrupted by the approach of two Atalan arch-mages, intent of giving Buckshire's Trading Post a show of dominance.
The fallen knight fought valiantly, fiercely. She had managed to beat the opposition back into the woods for a short reprive, during which she gathered Tristian's arrow-laden corpse.
-----
Sister Tasha nudged the corpse with a single foot.
"One hundered and thirty thousand."
Rosen regared her cooly. "Is it?"
The conversation was short, and both women refused to yield to the other. In the end, Rosen sighed, and gathered up what was left of Tristian, and headed for the door. Sister Tasha regared her the same way.
"Of course... pieces have a habit of falling off now and again if you take that option, but I believe it's free." She smiled warmly, vainly. "There is no reason you -have- to accept our services young lady."
Rosen merely turned her head, and gave Tasha a look equitable to a medusa's stone gaze, as if the knight was attempting to do the same. "Thank you for the advice, Sister. It will -most certainly- be remembered, the kindness perhaps repaid in kind some day. In fact, I will make a point of it, sister. You will be repaid." She brought the corpse out of the temple.
-----
She had left Tristian on the stone walks of Port Royale while she tended to Father Whitebeard, and then to open the gate. When she came back to carry his corpse, Sister Hendur was looking over the fallen body, muttering to herself. "Ah well... easily remedied."
A flash of light, and Tristian was breathing again. His eyes opened up, obscured by the helm that sat upon his head, which was immediately removed, as the male spit out some blood which had formed on the inside of his mouth, indicating internal injury of some kind, or the healing of. He looked around for a few moments, only to notice Rosen's presence behind him, eyeing the man with either dissatisfaction, or impudence. Tristian could not tell, nor did he care.
Motioning to the temple, he spoke out: "I thought these things were done inside." After very little talk, the knight left him to contemplate the latest battle, his failure during, and to get some well-deserved slumber. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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The anguish of a thousand voices.
Posted: 31 Jan 2007 01:34 PM |
He sat, sipping an ale. Balthor watched his every move. One sentence started a train of thought: "So what's buggin' ya, lad?"
"DOWN!!"
The screaming of the captian in his ear.
"UP!!"
The response from Tristian's arms that nearly gave out that day. The stench of a thousand troops, all working to the same purpose.
"DOWN!!"
The pain, shooting through his arms, like a pit viper striking the heel, the toxins working their way to the heart, immobilizing it. The sweat, dripping off of his scalp, down his matted hair, the salt burning in his eyes. Hell. At least, what he thought was hell at the time.
"'Nigh'" bein' th'key term there.
Balthor discussing something grandiose, yet deadly.
"Where has your honor gone?"
Delitia. The wife nearly forgotten due to misconceptions, and lust.
"What happened to the man I knew, and loved? What happened to him? What is this semblance of a shell doing in his stead?"
Tristian looked up, as if ready to respond, perhaps yell to that specter, finding a dwarven face looking back at him.
"They ain't bad things t'have."
Taking in his surroundings. The table with the two flagons. The dwarf. Uwe walking around, making sure things are going according to his plan. The two in the corner, never moving from that spot. The closed entrance.
"I mean it, I'll pay ya fer that service."
Tristian responded. More words exchanged.
"For a great while... I assumed that this was proof of something."
Rosen. Enlightening him on their whereabouts.
"I should set up an advice booth, charge a copper."
The images blurred out, faded like mist being swept away, waning. He was there. The Four Winds Inn. Balthor grinning, the slight odor of ale emnating from his side of the table.
Tristian grinned. Sometimes, it was the advice of a friend that solved everything. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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These are my searing memories.
Posted: 12 Feb 2007 03:34 PM |
The group of them stared at the tiny dragon that decided to greet them in the heart of Naruth. Rosen had invited them to 'plunder', though she never really defined that term. Feren, Josaphine, Josaphine's incessant chatting, Emma, and Pietro stood behind Tristian, as him and Rosen had claimed the front line for themselves. They were the warriors, and they took their spots instinctively, through superior training and a mentality that was etched into their minds.
Despite the heat, the sweat, the looming aspect of a much larger dragon on the horizon, or the mere fact that they were in the heart of a volcano, Tristian had his thoughts's narrowed, and occasionally off-topic. At that moment, his mind was considering making a purchase.
He told Josaphine to "Shut up," in the fact that she was taking every opportunity to make a worded jab at him, and glancing to the fallen knight for approval. Wether it was her words, or the wyrmling's impatience, the mythological being gave a huff, than dished a large cone of fire.
Tristian saw the entire thing coming, as if the world had slowed itself to allow him to elegantly move out of the way. However, he could not have warned anyone else when it happened. He simply watched them get engulfed.
Rosen took her burns, snarled, and began volleying bolts at the dragon.
Feren was too far away, she merely felt what it was like to walk near a wall of fire.
Josaphine felt the heat, felt it burn, and stepped back, saying: "Ok, let's leave."
Emma was inflicted with searing fury, and drew a sling, following Rosen's lead.
Pietro got engulfed and collapsed, skin and bone turning onyx black, skin breaking as the heat seared into the muscle, and into the bones.
The tiny whelp, now sated with the cries and anguish of those before him, turned tail and fled, and managed to make it out of sight, as the bolts and rocks streaked by his body, and soon caught the attention of the nearby guardian salamanders.
Wonderful. Let's make them think we are sieging the place, the hunter pondered.
Meanwhile, he felt a charring sensation in his leg. It was time to leave, as Josaphine (and Rosen, soon afterward) advised.
-----------------
On the way out, Rosen had another cylinder of flame directed toward her. The hunter was standing slightly in the way, but simply slided back with mere ease. Rosen took the trap in force.
The survival of all of them depended on someone being able to find and disarm the traps.
Tristian pulled a small wand out, eyes gleaming with the concept of it's use. He stifiled a laugh, and waved it in the direction of the exit.
The chicken emerged from the darkness that followed. The hunter called his summon to him, only to find that it was barbequed, and sent back to the fiendish realm before it could reach him.
One down...
Another.
Another.
Finally, the last chicken made it to his feet, which meant a clear passage.
----------
Outside. The dissapating air, the chill of a lesser heat upon them.
Pietro's body, as dragged by Emma.
Josaphine taking Tristian's prize, some scrolls to resurrect the living. Her reading them aloud, trying to bring the man with only twenty years of life to existence once again.
The failure.
A fed-up woman clad in black finally wandering off, concerned with only herself.
Tristian's thoughts fled him again, made him think of someone that was neither at their location, or awaiting them.
Then back to the dead body. He followed suit, evacuating himself.
At a clearer, more quiet spot, Tristian halted himself. Something was not right. Was he going to follow the dark knight, abandoning those he had come here with? Was he going to turn and return to the group, still intent on dragging the fallen man
Barely a man, the hunter thought
to a somewhat safe location? Was he going to return to the group of outcasts, and make what he believed a futile attempt on restoring a body to life?
He never made a decision. His decision found him, with an angry woman at the helm, requesting another parchment to breathe life into Pietro's lungs. After much doubt on what the woman from Paws could actually do with a magical scroll, he relented.
"You are such a jackass sometimes, Sir Tristian."
He waited patiently.
Somehow, wether through divine insight, or truly a gift, after the scroll was dictated. Pietro's burns left his face, returned it to a caucasian hue, and sat up soon afterward.
Tristian didn't feel a need to celebrate, as they were in hostile territory still. The others seemed to have no concept in that, and began conversing and celebrating
too early. We need to move out now, and they sit and bicker. maybe he should
"Get up! We are still surrounded by hostiles!"
Pietro came about, drew his bow, and moved out of the sacred ground, without their original guide, without her battle prowess.
-------
Sitting inside his room, unclothed excpet a cotton sheet, Tristian looked over his burns given by this escapade. It hurt to move, so he begrudgingly laid down, snarling at his own nerves, registering pain in his mind. For the longest time, he just laid there. Sleep overtook him, and blessed him with something besides battle. It was the shape, and face of a woman, whom would be found at a later time. When the pain subsided, and the hunter awoke from his dream. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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The past, old memories.
Posted: 16 Feb 2007 02:49 PM |
Midnight in Port Royale was the equivalent of noon anywhere else. Moderately busy, feet shuffling from one location to another. Produce, and product exchanged. Trades for supplies, gear, or weapons. Mothers worried about their missing sons. Contracts to end lives.
None of these meant anything to the figure ambling into a small alley, heading to a spot of isolation. His tall structure was somewhat disguised, as the skull hung grimly, glaring down at the walkway that he traveled numerous times, and could do blindfolded, even blind. Thirty-one years have traveresed since the male was brought into this world, and he has absorbed much, knowing much about travel, amongst other things. Tonight, he would teach others what he knew.
As the alley got darker, a torch was set aflame by this male, though the action outlined the figure of two bodies, facing his way, motionless. Those two bodies were upset about the fact that their cover had been revealed. A voice rang out at the same time, advising both shades that they were still noticed, even beyond the flame. The torch was there for confirmation purposes, rather than precautions.
"Pardon." All the male said as he ambled on, mere robe draping his body, walking stick in hand, pressing into the ground for support that was never needed. The two figures did not move, and instead, his ears recieved the distinction of steps behind him. He turned, ever so slightly, blue eyes catching what looked to be two more shades, now flanking his position. They were merely
robbers
visible, so the torch was raised higher. A figure to his right, the original direction, lighted one of his own, revealing a face of youth, eyes barely visible, grime evident on his cheeks, down his neck, unto rags that covered the minimun allotment to evade persecution of Port Royale authority. He was
young, and full of self confidence that will prove to be his downfall
regarding Tristian eagerly, showcasing a row of teeth, marred by some black holes. Finally, he drew a knife, and waved it in a "come hither" motion to the older man.
"Yer purse." Silence briefly followed their intention. "I's ours now. We' let yah wak 'way wit' only a slight beatin', iffin ya give it quiet-like nah."
The scraping of daggers followed suit. Each of the aggressors now wielded one, and the hunter regarded each of them, making a full rotation before speaking. A gruff, yet bold, distinctive voice rang out to each of them, implying age, yet wisdom. Though the cutpurses turned a blind eye to wisdom, which was his first advantage.
"Go home, before your mothers worry about you. I'll let you walk away
unharmed, as long as you cease
from this unscathed, if you wish it."
The gap-toothed grinned, revealing more hallowed areas in his mouth, and looked the taller, yet humbled man through the black, matted dreadlocks, into his blue eyes.
"Tha' so? Git 'im."
The first charged, only a few steps away, but seemed to span the length of a great filed, barreling headlong into Tristian. Releasing his grip on both objects, the torch and stick fell to the floor, and instead planted his left foot into the ground instead, twisting his body around to bring a right shin directly into the man's face as he neared the robe-clad figure. Letting out a howl, the man was diverted into the walkway which now bore spots of crimson.
Tristian didn't need to see the crossbow to know it was being produced and aimed in his direction. The firing sound went off, but the hunter was nowhere in the bolt's path. Unfortunately, one of the assailants was, as it pierced slightly to the inside of his chest, underneath bone. He dropped, screaming in pain, begging for help. As the bandit fell, so did the torch, which snuffed out upon hitting the ground, and rolling into a nearby pool of water, more than likely leading to a sewer.
The unbuckling of a robe. The cloak used to coneal himself under it. The reloading crossbow man. The gap-toothed, still there with a dagger and torch, pondering how such an old man was so mobile, so quick to move.
As the cloak fell, Tristian was nowhere to be found. Aiming the weapon into the darkness, the criminal contemplated where he was amongst it.
The dagger sliding into his sternum, piercing his backside, informed him. Before a groan, a yelp could be vocalized, a metal covered hand closed over his face, and directed it to the nearby wall. The subseqent cracking was that poor lad's face, impacting solid wall, a tooth flying out and landing unseen into the darkness, never to be recovered.
Gap-tooth staggered back, only to recoil and drive the dagger into Tristian's shoulder, which impacted flesh, rendered it open, and touched bone.
If there was any indication of pain in his body, the hunter did not show it. He twisted, shoved gap-tooth back, and let the dagger sit there, unattented to, in his shoulder. The same hand that covered a mouth, now closed itself around a neck.
The poor, young, dirty boy, now struggled as he was lifted, suspended by the arm that hoisted him up. Tristian's words rang out, over the moans of the injured, over gap-tooth's struggles for air, the ice blue eyes piercing the criminal's
forest green
irises.
"Never assume that anything is what it appears to be. Your failure today has left you, and your companions injured, sore, and defeated. It seems apparent to me that you owe me a life, and one that I may come and claim at any time I choose. Now," the victor released his grip on the neck of the beaten, "leave, and be thankful that you did not sustain a permanent injury."
Dropping to the ground, gap-tooth was only able to clutch his chest, and inhale as much as he could. Neither of the four saw Tristain pluck the dagger out of his shoulder, clutch his robe, and stride off into the darkness. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Re: The past, old memories.
Posted: 25 Feb 2007 07:52 PM |
Trisitan opened the door to his room, and was treated with a somewhat pleasant surprise. An envelope, and a rolled parchment were deposited underneath the door, awaiting the current resident to discover upon returning from his latest expedition.
He picked both of them up, and examined them within his iron-clad hands. The scroll was well-maintained, and by the outward appearance, something of great value. The other was a mere note, with a bolded Mr. Tristian. The left side of his mouth moved upward, giving the appearance of a common grin to any other being that resided within that room. Tristian knew (or assumed, since he was not a magister of any sort,) of no one else in the room. Clearly, the war-lady had something in motion, and opened that one first.
A brief scanning of the contents. A nod from the owner of the note. The hunter knew that tonight might be something worthwhile, something of great prestiege, and great danger. He had hoped the planning, whatever that may be, was going to be effective, worthwhile, and possibly move some of the moral weights off of his back, and toss them onto someone else, preferably those trying to out do him. For there were many. He laid the paper down carefully, gently, on the side table that held a few vials of various components. He would regard that letter carefully later, possibly when the hour of need was drawing near.
He removed the seal on the scroll, using the skinning knife to carefully cut out what was needed, in order to open it fully and not damage the original text. The same eyes that casually scanned the battle-master's words now meticously drifted and paused over each and every word that was written here. Clearly, intelligence was something the writer was able to express in the few words she had written.
He collapsed the scroll, and placed it among a few oddball items in his backpack, though they were mere necessities. He would attend to that issue later.
Maybe. He would have to survive the night, now looming over Icy Vale much like the assassin who studies his mark for hours on end, before making a kill. If the night proved to be too much, then he would never see the daylight, nor any messages, ever again. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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The rushing of water.
Posted: 12 Mar 2007 03:07 PM |
"Awaken, fool."
A sound coming from his mind, but not from him. It was a feminine voice, one that seemed to amplify itself, echoing, ringing in his mind like the a piercing cry, one that uttered importance, along with the intended message.
A single eye opened, inside the skull-helm that was retreived from the desert by the hands of a dwarven wizard, and one of Tristian's best friends.
My eye is open. I have conscious thoughts. My blood is pumping, sending messages to my brain. I am... warm. At least, warmer.
The other eye opened. Even though the skin told the mind of the feeling of cold, the skin telling messages at all was something. I am unfrozen. And this... is not where I was before.
Slowly standing. Muscles ached, bones cracked, the once limber Tristian was now a clumbsy, toppling mess of oiled armor, weapons, and various goods. Without the slightest hint of grace or skill, he stood, akin to a child standing for the first time, holding his torso airborne, the arms supporting the structure, legs rotating the mass above it to a vertical position. The nearly toppling over, the near fall surely could have broken something. Tristian cared not to break something, at least not until he discerned his whereabouts, and his overall health.
Finally, it came to a head, as the skull loomed over the surroundings, which was the beginning of a sheet of ice, seemingly blanketing some other type of footing, something that was not seen to most mortal men or women. Then he heard the sound of a flowing liquid. It sounded very familiar, one that made him cringe.
Eyes opening up, searching about, alert, yet uncertain that what he was doing was a mistake. Someone could be watching him, waiting for a chance to strike...
The sound of a blade scraping against the scabbard, Tristian's hand gripped firmly around the hilt, was the loudest sound so far. Everything else was muted to a fault, thanks to the light snowfall, and the oiled rings that wrapped around his body. He spun, taking in his surroundings. While he was, a tight fear gripped him. This was familiar.
This was Nethar'u. He was on the edge of the Nethar'u river. Alone, and seemingly undetected. Though that was halted, when a hideous looking being crept toward him, a bow in his hand, arrow nocked, aiming firmly at the human.
Tristian ran. He ran far, strode even though his bones screamed to stop, his heart pumping blood at a rapid rate, his lungs producing air, which was used way too quickly. His body and mind screamed to stop, to instead halt and fight. Tristian kept going. did not stop, until he made it to the boat which would ferry him to The Undercity, and it's dark merchants. He continued on to the cellars, and then out of the bar. The morning sun graced him, as if awaiting his presence.
The morning light burned his eyes. He had not seen it for weeks. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Dawn
Posted: 16 Mar 2007 12:36 PM |
The first time it happened, Tristian was in his room.
On a chair, wait a book laid out before him, was he who had retreated to his one true place of isolation for a moment, lantern illuminating the area beside him, making the letters on the pages stand out, and legible. His weapons and things were stashed in the middle of the room, alongside the bed. They laid there in a fashion that would enable the hunter to draw his blade in a moment's notice, with the slightest of movements from anywhere in the room. This was for his own sake, not another person would suspect the monument of weaponry lying there.
The oil slowly drained in the lamp, fluttering and sputtering the light, which caught his attention. He muttered a curse under his breath, and went searching for more oil, which was normally stashed in flasks underneath the ledge that held the lantern waist length. He muttered a curse again, when there was a lack of oil there. He would have to head downstairs for more.
He sat up slowly, looked to the door, and then looked back. He could still see the letters on the book, the words that spoke out to him. It was being illuminated from behind-
Tristian wheeled around. What he saw, he had seen before, but never near him, or even solely in his presence. It was a small light, floating, darting around the area. Blueish in hue, it moved slowly, and seem to act on it's own accord.
Immediate fear. Trisitan reached for a blade, and pulled out the one that was given to him long ago, by the warlady Ophelia. He spun quickly around the room, looking for something to swing at. He found nothing, but was still on edge.
_______________________________
It happened again. This time, he was in combat.
He was on the way to Buckshire, and was combatting the acolytes of Gukathul along the coast line. His helm was off, as he had fought this type of foe countless times, and walked out with nary a scratch. He was set upon by two of them, darting full speed towards the warrior, claws outstreched, hungry for flesh and blood. Asking for another victim.
Trisitan sidestepped one of them, but was caught on the side of the face by a stray, outstretched claw. It tore at his flesh, leaving a mark on his face, between ear and eye on his left side. Another scar to be added to the countless ones already there. The hunter reeled back, placing a hand along his own face, pressuring the wound into closing quicker. What he did not expect was what happened next. The left eye saw out of the corner, the same bluish flash. It eminated from his hand, and he felt a slight burning, and then a tingling where the wound was recently given. Then he felt nothing.
The two undead minions shambled forward, never relenting in their quest to consume the hunter. Tristian found himself, and stepped forward, slicing down the minions with ease. The coast became quiet, only the sound of birds and ocean waters now audible.
The hunter kneeled, reaching in his bag for a small mirror. He rarely had use for it, though it had been there for the longest time. He held it up, looking out to his left side as it shown the hunter what wound was on his face.
Tristian could not understand why there wasn't a wound. He felt the pain, the tearing, the blood coming down. But through that visage, not even a scar remained. He traced where he thought he had been injured, only to feel a smooth piece of skin between his ear and eye. His brow furrowed, and he lowered the mirror. Suddenly, it was starting to come together.
His wounds were healing through his touch. He was creating balls of light. He remembered others who could do such a thing. Alton, Serai, Erin... Tristian grimaced, and looked at the ground.
"What... what is happening to me?" |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Journal Entry #??
Posted: 23 Mar 2007 12:29 AM |
Today, simply, was hell. Both quite literally, and figuratively.
It started when I sat down to talk with a lady by the name of Katrina, a quiet, yet straight-forward woman, who wanted to discuss the areas underneath Port. Later on, the priestess of Helkris, Aurelya had sat down with us. I had gone over the various areas underlying the city, and told them of the tale when I went into the Tomb of the Kings for the first time. A few moments later, Alyssa, priestess of Naruth (and opponent of Helkris,) entered the Icy Vale Inn, joining our little group.*1.
I had set off with the two women, off to see the undercity shortly afterward. We had made it there with little problems, and both women were eager to explore... more. So, we had descended The Steps of Nu'Men, and met up with a familiar face: Lady Serai Aquesti. She said she had seen us leaving the Hall of Champions, which begs me to ponder what exactly she was doing there in the first place. Nevertheless, I advised Aurelya of her importance to any skirmish we may have had. Both the women agreed to have Serai join us as we travelled Nethar'u.
We had travelled very far, and had been attacked by many demons. We came across an abomination, one that nearly killed all of us. Thankful we had Serai accompany us, for she had managed to wake all three of us up at once from our stupor. I had heard stories about Abbodan Prison, but I had not the capability to imagine what they actually looked like. That was shattered for me today. Not only was I able to see the outskirts of the prison, I actually made it inside the holding areas. Katrina and myself became comatose again later that day, when we ended up fighting more demons inside the Abbodan walls.
On the way out, the demons had reassembled, where I saw the most amazing, yet absolutely horrifying sight. A flash of instance, Serai had*2.
everything in sight. However, something was wrong. Serai, she was not herself. The charming, woman whom I know, become something... that wasn't her. I tried to counsel her, but she shrugged off my attempt to help. Something in me wanted to scream, tell her what I was feeling, tell her how I felt for her. But... I simply could not.*3. I was trying to focus, and my inward feelings were proving a hinderance. We had to set off without her, as she fled somewhere into Nethar'u, alone.
As we moved onward to the surface, we were ambushed by demons, spewing arrows from wicked instruments. They hailed death on us, though through superior firepower, we survived, albeit briefly. As we emerged into the undercity once more, the sounds of a demonic laughter echoed forth, goading us to confront it, confront the demons we left behind.*4. I departed from the women soon afterward, but not without knowing that Aurelya has enough trust in me to tell me of a dire situation that may be affecting Vives. I only hope I can divulge information from the sources I know, and then go searching on my own.
*1. A note is scrawled onto the side: Remind self to ask Alyssa about ruby-encrusted lingerie. Get dynamics, or demonstration if possible. The word 'demonstration' is underlined twice.*
*2. Ink is blotted here, making the passage further unreadable, until it continues on the next page.*
*3. Written inside the paragraph, above and below, where it would fit, sits a scratching in blood, in a handwriting not from Tristian:KiLL hEr, TrisTIaN. bRiNG hEr BacK tO US, anD yOU iLL B rEWaRdeD!!*
*4. The demonic writing continues, this time asking Tristian himself: cOMe aNd vIZiT uS, TrisTiaN, cOmmE bAk tO NeTHAr'U! wE wUd LUV tO HaV yOu bAcK!!!* |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Only in your dreams.
Posted: 24 Mar 2007 09:50 PM |
Sleep. It was the one thing Tristian valued above all else, at times. Sure, he was able to move without rest for long periods of time, but he knew it was needed once in a while.
He got back to his room, after having a horrific encounter with Vestlat, lord and lich of Lynaeum, having Rosenhart confiscated, and being told never to return. He vowed to get that blade back, or to walk out with the staff that the undead creature tapped his bony, skeletal fingers on while the two conversed earlier that morning.
Making it back to his room, he stripped himself of clothing, crawled into his bed, and placed his head on the pillow. Sleep soon overcame him in mere seconds, as the hunter's mind drifted away, to another period of his life, to faces that gave him comfort, and to days that were better than the one he just encountered.
The hunter was oblivious to the warping of the wooden wall above his bed, where it stretched out, like an ooze. This gelatinous form took the shape of a hand, reaching out from the side, right above his bed. This hand shaped itself to be a humanoid hand, and maintained the texture of the wall, despite the fluidity and nimbleness this apparition had. Slowly, it moved down, covering the mouth and nose of the hunter.
His eyes opened immediately, grabbing the thing placed over him, trying to pry it free. Despite the strength the hunter had, he was unable to do so, instead causing the hand to press down more, pushing Tristian backward, farther down into his fluffy, comfortable tomb.
Panic seeped into his mind, Tristian tried moving from side to side, attempting to free the hand from his face, allowing him to breathe. It was to no avail. Fear and madness began to swell. Death by suffocation, but no implement, no sign of a break in, nothing. Just him, lying there with only a bedsheet for clothing, all the oxygen taken away by some unknown force.
Tristian finally tried to push himself off of the wall, placing both hands on the oak, hoping to at least free up a minute opening to breathe in. What he did not expect was his hands, becoming grappled by even more hands. It felt like the driving force behind his imminent death multiplied, bearing down, and now pinning his own arms by the wrist.
Trapped, the hunter's eyes went wide. Bloodshot, and seemingly fated for death at this moment, he looked to the ceiling, hoping something would have stopped this fate. Finally, he lost air, and
shot straight up. Now vertical, sitting on his bed instead of lying in it, Tristian immediately turned, looking at the wall behind him. It was flat, vertical as well, with no protrusions or signs of movement. Breath crept into his mouth, travelling down to his lungs, exhaling soon afterward. The dark, dreadlocked hair drifted down, obscuring his face, currently frozen in horror.
Drifitng both of his legs down, draping them over the bed, eyes not wandering from that spot where he swore a wall attacked him a moment ago. Looking to the center of the room, where his robes lied, he grabbed them with a quick swipe, dressing himself. His mind was lost once again to the present, the faces that carried sorrow and hate, the places of those that drove him into despair once again. Propelling himself off of the bed, he quickly grabbed the staff of bamboo from near the door. He quietly walked out of his room, down into the inn's lobby and right outside. There, he sat, pondering the things that he deemed important, the things that needed questioning, and the things that needed answers.
After a good night's sleep, he would go about getting them, in any way possible. He would head out for Port Royale in the morning. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Re: Only in your dreams.
Posted: 28 Mar 2007 12:36 AM |
The disease
Looking up, looking into the small flame that gave the faintest of an illumination to the room, Tristian sat still. The war. The events between him, his friends, those who were not his friends, and his mortal (and immortal) enemies were beginning to bog him down, strapping more weight to the back of the mule. That mule's legs began buckling, but it felt that the weight was not being lifted, by any chance. His mind was drifting again.
The love
He stood, looking at her. Her, with her backside towards him, staring out into the harbor with eyes that he did not see. Her, in her perfect figure, telling him everything he didn't want to hear. Telling him that things would be better left unsaid. Him, with his loose tongue, releasing the hound from the cage, letting the truth be told. The shattering that followed. His anger resulted in his broken hand moments later, after she had walked off. Him, channeling his energy into it, mending the broken bone with a minute healing spell.
The claws
Nethar'u, once again, there was a great battle. The demonic creature, battle axe in hand, came charging at Tristian with eyes full of malice, hate, and frenzy. Tristian stood there, a single blade in hand, shieldless, helmless, waiting. The Midoran training coming into full swing, complemented by the years of battle brought forth by war, desire, and instinct. It became natural. He stepped forward, which transformed into a small leap at the demon, who was unrelenting. Tristian's hand lie in perfect position, and swung in mid-flight. As he was doing this, the fiend came down with the axe, sharpened for the sole purpose of cleaving metal, skin, and then bone. A single slice was made, and blood was spilled. Tristian landed, and sheathed his blade, while the demon folded up like paper, crumpling to the wound recieved at the human's hands.
The blood
As Tristian left the Mirghul woods, he felt something. A voice carried itself: "I only wish to say, Thank You." A stiff wind, yet seemingly coming from no solid direction, yet somewhat soothing, somewhat passionate. Tristian briefly lowered his eyelids, then lifted them, and saw her. Pretty, auburn hair, yet... pale faced. He knew immediately what he was looking at.
As they left, she called out to him again. Sensing his fear. "What's wrong, dear..."
He smirked, though his eyes still searched for the source. She seemed so close to him, yet her presence was nowhere within vicinity. He posed: "Do you have a purpose?"
Her reply bit, stung, but was true.
"Do you?"
He stared out into the empty, desolate woods, and became honest with himself, more than her.
"I keep wondering that myself. "
She materialized. Tristian felt her near, and spun to face her. The woman, the apparition, only winked.
Tristian decided that this would be his fix. He would understand, and possibly correct the mistake done by him this night. And he would do it alone.
...And the skin won't ever be cleansed from the dirt |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Vicious circle.
Posted: 30 Mar 2007 09:58 PM |
This was not what he was asking for, yet it came to him. A tough decison, intertwined with emotions, rage, fear, lust... it was becoming unbearable. Adding to the frustration, was the leeching soul that trailed the hunter's steps. All sorts of questions, atrocities in of themselves, had eminated from the darkest corners of the mind.
Focus. It was the one word Tristian had to say to himself, and even then, need to regurgitate it, so that others would not feel the ill-effects spawning in, writhing around like the creepers of the Void. The constant, burning struggle to maintain sanity was driving in, and Tristian was denying all of it, to the point of sheer pain. His trip had brought him to Wyrmtongue, where he met Kriayna once again, turning a normal chat into something that Tristian would have loved to call a date, but unfortunately, the lady had neither confirmed nor denied it.
However, when he travelled to his room in the Vale later on that night, his thoughts drifted to the woman who literally became...
"It doesn't matter who she is!"
The hunter, astounded by his own outburst, looking at the locked door, as if the door was going to open, and all the answers were goiing to be revealed.
"Her previous actions, words, everything she was before my time. It matters not."
His words quieted down, becoming a near silent prayer.
"I will not judge her, based on her past, her faith, or her life before now."
He nodded a confirmation to himself. He knew he had to say what he feared to say, what drove him to sheer terror, everytime it was an option. He closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep, intent on either making her figure it out, or him revealing all the truth that he knew, even if it destroyed him. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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In the journal.
Posted: 11 Apr 2007 02:11 PM |
The following is an excerpt from Tristian's journal:
Today was a decent, although quite confusing, day. It truly started when I told Ophelia, my battle-savvy orculn friend, that I inteded to head to Frobozz Island for a specific gain. She outrightly refused to come with me. Without a decision, I ventured across the coast, cutting down the minions of Gukathul where they stood, and soon made it to the Buckshrie Coast. There, we met up with Lady Katrina, and Vrodo. It was interesting to watch Ophelia and Katrina play off of each other. Katrina wished to see the top of the Shadow Mountain, to which I agreed. Despite my fear regarding the passage to Castle Valinor, I also wished to see it again, to see if I didn't need the aid of Rosen to surmount the obstacle. Ophelia lacked the desire to go, until the Helkrissain woman goaded her into coming along. I remember it clearly...
I look to the lady, taking in her beautiful, yet indifferent form: "So, anything of interest lately?"
Her words were quick, vicious in tone: "No. Now that you're here I hoped you would provide that." I was tempted to say something, but it my have been out of place with my two good friends around. So I reverted to something else.
"I always have something interesting. The adventures, on the other hand... are hard to come by."
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
We spoke of Nethar'u, much to Ophelia's dismay. I would have thought she would have developed an immunity to anything regarding Abbodan, or the Sugar Man's lair by now. Katrina wanted to go and see the mountain. But there are many mountains, no?
"The mountain I thought of was the shadow mountain."
Ophelia looked at her pensively: "In Maldovia?"
Katrina nods once, affirming her statement, to which Ophelia throws her metal-clad arms in the air. "What is wrong with you people?"
Vrodo understood the Helkrissian's concept: "See it from afar. But this Katrina, she wants to walk its flanks."
The lady of ice looks to the orc, giving her a glare made of that element: "If you're scared..."
Ophelia halted in mid-sentence: "Can we think of a place that doesn't let lose hordes- Hey, I didn' t say that."
"No?"
Ophelia, through gritted teeth, retorted bacl: "Fine...I will show you...but you're not going to like it."
Apparently, while I was inside Doc's, attaining a quick meal, Ophelia and Katrina made some sort of contest on who would take out more Maldovians. As I left, I found it quite amusing that, for once, I wasn't competing with anyone. However, now that I am sitting here, contemplating it, I think I was. We managed to get to the bridge, the four of us ready for a war.
During our trip, we seemed to be watched by a shadow of some kind, the type that I have seen before, stalking us, only watching our movements, and fading back into wherever the hell it came.
I can say that I was given a bit of revenge on Katrina. Her comments revolved around, biting her in her nice behind this time. The freakish hound that drove me away last time, clutching for my life, ended up tackling her to the ground, leaving myself and Ophelia to fend it off of her, before she became a victim...
"Did the poor wil' puppy knock you down?"
Katrina said nothing, but her helm, tilted in my direction, said much more, with the implication that none of them were too pleasant.
We managed to get inside the citadel, where we rested quickly, as the forces of Maldovia were looming, possibly gathering for another assault on us. However, what we found when we left that sanctuary...
Ophelia opened the gate, to reveal a horrific sight: shadows, of various shapes and sizes, all of them bearing down on the four with beady red eyes, eyes that pierced the soul, sending shivers into the most hardened warrior's spine. Ophelia immediately closed the door.
"Ok... um... did I just see that?"
Me, being tired of the stalking mess that has yet to reveal it's purpose, looks at the burly orc woman: "I blame you."
"ME? What have I done?"
I offered no solace: "What haven't you done? Did they go away yet?
After very little debate, we decided that the best course of action was to simply walk through the shadows , and continue to brave the mountain. We dealt with the giants made of shadow, with a viable tactic: Katrina and Ophelia swing at them, while Vrodo and myself provided covering fire, agitating their wounds, and causing them to fall.
We were victorious, when we ascended to the peak of the mountain, viewing the edge of infinity once again. I was tempted to stay a while, but the group on the bridge had other plans, and wanted to leave immediately. So, we left, and progressed to the sunbringer's miniscule hut, where we rested, and headed back home.
In the wake of the shades following us, we escaped, though by what margin we are unsure. Whether or not these shades will come after us in the future, is still undetermined, and although I would like to say that we aren't ever going back, I know for a fact that I will be returning. The place calls to me, like a lone child searching for it's mother. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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The next page.
Posted: 18 Apr 2007 05:27 PM |
| I have learned something that will aid me, or be my destruction. At this point, I pray for the latter. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Bubbling dreams, boiling emotions.
Posted: 27 Apr 2007 02:28 PM |
Tristian sat and watched the chemicals mix together, forming a perfect solution in the alembic. The disollution would be further mixed with other chemicals to produce tonics of a vital substance. A trained sapphire eye watched the fluid trickle down, mix with the heated alcohol, sitting inside the boiling tube, and then condensing to form an 'essence': one ingredient needed for an end result. While his eyes and hands worked with the components, his mind wandered.
My loyalties lie in different directions. I wish to help out the ice sisters as much as I can, but at what cost? What will I give up to aid them? Have I given it up already? Or does it lie on the border of some unknown horizon, somewhere out for me to obtain with a desperate, outstretched hand? I have talked to Salt; he is willing to help, but I will not allow him to be misled, even at my own expense.
I wish to help out the Guyver's, but will I go too deep into unhallowed waters, that I separate myself from them entirely? Will I be deemed the enemy, due to my afilliations, instead of my actions and my words?
I need a permanent home. Askwith Manor calls out to me, but so does a construction project in Icy Vale. Who would I need to talk to? Where would I build? I fear if I cannot construct a home, I would have to purchase an apartment in Askwith, which may be the best bet. A centralized location, with access to the rest of the city. I would only be a walk away from Serai...
She continues to elude me. I know what I know, and yet I will not confront her with it. At least, not yet. Not until I am sure that it will be the best course of action. Her smile hides something I dare not face, at least not yet.
A great evil lies in wait, and we sit and do nothing to confront it. Where are the so-called plans of action? Where is the counter for the Atalan forces? Or should a different area be taken back first? Bregodim's Halls? Gladden? M'Gok Tukar? Or should the we just head to Undreath, and wage a full-scale assault?
One vial down, he places it in a rack to cool, and prepares another.
What is becoming of me? Am I truly a divine warrior? Or is this something I am mistaking for a curse of some kind? Am I walking on a thin line, or am I truly failing to realize a crucial point?
There is too much at stake for me to dwindle on. I will need to re-focus my priorites. I will need to do that soon.
Another done, this one is slid next to the first, and the first is retrieved and placed in a small case for safe-keeping. His thoughts would drift on, as his mastery over the mortar and pestle continue to flourish like flowers in the Brandibuck sunlight. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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